


Beauty (is in The Eye of The Beholder)

by mortdecay



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Art Student Park Chanyeol, Artist Kim Jongin | Kai, Blind Kim Jongin | Kai, Jongin’s Birthday Week 2021, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortdecay/pseuds/mortdecay
Summary: Chanyeol might be older than the rest of the class, but it doesn't mean he's less passionate. He might be stuck in an art block for a while now, but the new muse might be what it takes for him to get his work displayed at the exhibition of his favorite contemporary artist, the one and only Kim Kai.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27
Collections: Challenge #14 — We Artist Baby!





	Beauty (is in The Eye of The Beholder)

**Author's Note:**

> The only art jargons I know of are the ones I learned during a mandatory fine art class in uni so I apologize in advance if there's any error. Happy belated birthday, Jongin!

The new model is, for lack of better word, ethereal. No offense to the previous ones, of course, but they have never made his fingers move on their own, filling the blankness on the white canvas with soft, yet sharp, edges of the man’s face. His button nose that looks too adorable—a juxtaposition to the rest of his features, his full, plump lips that look as if they’re pouting all the time, and… his eyes. They are closed at first, for the first half hour of the class, as per the professor’s instruction. 

When they open afterwards, Chanyeol isn’t the only one taken aback. He hears the soft gasps and murmurs from his peers, and he has to hold himself back from following. 

He doesn’t want to offend the man. He supposes the man probably has faced so many unwanted comments and words over his disability. But anyone could tell those light blue, almost grey eyes aren't exactly seeing, aren't looking. And yet, Chanyeol finds himself drawing the shape of them, tracing and sketching with pencils until he's satisfied with the result. Until he thinks he does them justice. Then, before he can stop himself, grabs a few tubes of acrylic—all in blue and white shades. It earns him confused glances from his classmates, and he can tell his professor finds it just as perplexing, judging by the head tilts directed at him, but Chanyeol pays them no mind. 

He isn't sure when he’d get to meet the man at the center of the room again, and getting the shades of his eye color wrong seems like a crime in and of itself, in Chanyeol's book. Besides, it's been weeks—no, months—since he's stuck in the hell that is an art block. 

Chanyeol's favorite artist once said that one has to seize the moment when one finds a muse. For him, it's now or never. After all, the best work from this class will have the honor to be displayed at the Kim Kai exhibition, six months from now in Seoul Arts Center. He tells himself it's just for the sake of his competitiveness, and the fact that he would have a chance to finally meet the enigmatic, secretive Kim Kai. 

He might have entered the art school way too late—while the others are in their twenties, Chanyeol in his early thirties—but Chanyeol isn't one to ignore the beauty that’s in each of Kim Kai's oeuvres. The actuality that the art school he's attending finally gets the distinction isn't one he takes for granted. He _needs_ to meet his art hero, at least once. 

Whenever Chanyeol lets himself go, he goes to a place in his mind where there's only him, a canvas, along with the object of his inspiration. He often forgets everything else; it's why some of his friends often leave him out of men's nights. As shades of blue fills the right amount of the previously void canvas, he can tell he's going to get into that zone again but finds that it’s not bothering him at all. 

At one point, after the nth glance upwards, he finds himself freezing on his stool. He's been focusing on his work so much, he realizes only then that the model is staring back at him—or at least, something in his general direction. Stunned, Chanyeol holds back a gasp, but the model must have heard him as he shoots an amused smile in return; blue, unseeing eyes unmoving from their gaze. 

_Almost_ , he mentally berates himself, _I’m almost done with the correct hue._ One last glance won’t be a crime, right? Right.

The rest of the class goes on just like that—with Chanyeol working a good amount of time on the model’s eyes alone, memorizing each soil-colored speck on both irises, the faint, black rim surrounding them like a galaxy. The man keeps his gaze on Chanyeol, sightless eyes holding so much untold desires. Trying not to be overwhelmed is proven hard, but he can’t say he’s glad the class ends, too.

With a heavy heart, Chanyeol packs up his supplies, trying not to mourn over the fact that the previous model would return. A sigh threatens to spill out of his lips just as he gets up, but it’s swallowed by the sight of the figure standing before him.

“Hello, you’re Park Chanyeol, right?” The model smiles, eyes trained on Chanyeol’s shoulder, his body part within the model’s eye-level. He shouldn’t find it endearing, and yet he does.

Chanyeol is about to nod, and stops himself as he realizes the model wouldn’t see it. So he answers in kind, adds, “Thank you.”

The man tilts his head, “What for?”

“Your presence pulled me out of an art block, actually,” Chanyeol confesses, hands scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh,” the model laughs, a sound so light and airy like a song Chanyeol wants to hear forever, “I’m glad to hear that, then.”

“Yeah, um, oh hey, how did you know my name? I don’t remember a class introduction earlier,” he asks, voice dripping with curiosity.

There is a secretive smile on the man’s face, mischievous, but not unkind, “Professor Jung said there is one Park Chanyeol in his class with an, ah, odd method of painting. Color on a specific part of his work, the rest follows that particular part. I put two and two together when I heard you mixing the acrylic.”

Chanyeol barks out a laughter, sheepish, “That’s me, yes. By the way, you’ve never told me your name.”

“It’s Jong-”

“There you are, Kim Kai-sshi!” A voice interrupts him as the doors bang open, a smaller man with wild, worried eyes enters, “We still have a lot to discuss about your exhib- oh, you’re not alone.”

Though the model—no, Kim Kai—can’t see the shocked expression Chanyeol is making, he still winces apologetically, and with a smile, tells Chanyeol, “I hope I’ll see you in six months, Chanyeol-sshi.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- The tiny man at the end is Baekhyun, Jongin's assistant and best friend  
> \- Chanyeol's final piece would be of a half-body, black and white portrait of Jongin - with the exception of his eyes (blue and more detailed than the rest)  
> \- their unofficial first date would be at the Seoul Arts Center six months after the story because yes, of course Chanyeol would be the one who gets chosen :>


End file.
